


Italian sun

by Coryphion



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Roma | Rome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coryphion/pseuds/Coryphion
Summary: What if Chloe in Rome behaved as any rational human being and stopped spending the whole time in the library?
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 29
Kudos: 181





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This very short, silly one-shot was written because I am feeling sad, being forced to sit at home due to the epidemic. I miss my life, I miss my travels. I had plans for this spring, all had to be postponed. I am also very sad about what is happening in Italy. I love Italy, I have been there many times and now, when I see the empty streets of this lovely cities, my heart is breaking. 
> 
> There is nothing special in this story. I am not good at writing fluff and happy scenes, I prefer darker emotions. However, I was always very irritated at the idea of Chloe spending the whole month in Europe sitting in the library. Don’t get me wrong, I love also libraries, but… well in that case it was a bit waste of time, wasn’t it?
> 
> So, if you read it, just smile and think about all these nice things we would normally be able to do.

Chloe started at the morbid picture in the old manuscript, presenting the most terrible horrors its medieval author could think about, with the hideous monster devouring the poor victims just in the middle… and wondered what exactly was she doing here.

Whatever this book was about, it had nothing to do with Lucifer. Her Lucifer.

Even if her Lucifer was, indeed, the devil – and it was the highest time to believe that he was speaking the truth the whole time, and even if he was, somehow… someway… evil – and this was something she still couldn’t believe, instead of everything she read in this library – he certainly had nothing in common with this slovenly, cruel creature, clumsily painted in the old manuscript.

 _I am just making the fool of myself,_ thought Chloe.

Outside, the weather was lovely, Italian sun shining brightly on the spotless, cerulean sky. Rome was beautiful at this time of the year when the temperatures were still not too high. Through the window, she could see a street, crowded by scooters and bikes crowding in the crazy traffic and two small cafés, both full of people. She thought about espresso and almost moaned with longing.

The detective tried to return to her lecture but became more and more distracted with the life happening behind the window. The small street became more and more crowded. It was still early, but the herds of tourists were already following their guides at their way to St. Peter’s basilica. Chloe thought that she should at least take Trixie for some sightseeing. The girl was sitting in some playroom that provided care and remuneration but didn’t differ much from similar institutions in Los Angeles. What sort of European holiday it was?

Suddenly, her decision was taken. She would go out. Enjoy this city and the time with her daughter. They both deserved it, a piece of simple happiness after all what they both went through. Chloe returned the books to the librarian, who eyed her carefully, as she begged for days to get access to all these old volumes – and quickly strode outside.

“Excuse me, Madam,” an elderly, balding priest with a grey beard called behind her. Chloe stopped, surprised. Did she forget about something in the library?

“Can we talk for a while? I noticed the subject of your… research and I think we should exchange some… observations.”

“Not today, I am sorry,” replied Chloe lightly. “I have an appointment.”

An unexpected appointment with her daughter, but she didn’t have to inform the stranger about it.

“Ah. Perhaps tomorrow then,” replied the priest.

Chloe smiled, nodding, but noted that the man knew she was coming here every day. He must have been observing her. She didn’t like it and felt the wave of mistrust toward the stranger.

The weird encounter was quickly forgotten, when overjoyed Trixie literally jumped at her, hearing they are going to spend the rest of the day together. Chloe felt the sting of shame, only now realizing how badly must she have neglected her daughter. It was the first time when Trixie was in Europe and they barely had time to enjoy it, as she spent the whole days in the library.

 _As if I couldn’t find it all on the Internet… later,_ thought Chloe lazily, because the Italian sun started slowly to warm her heart.

It was as if the sunrays were getting through her skin straight to her soul, warming something cold and sad inside it, melting down all her stress and worries… Chloe closed her eyes and finally allowed herself to relax.

They started with pizza. Not in one of these fancies restaurants, but in a small bakery with too few tables. They ate greasy pieces sitting on the lawn and it was the best pizza they ever had in their lives.

Chloe smirked, imagining how much Lucifer would grumble, if he had to sit on the lawn, endangering his designer trousers. He would certainly insist on eating in one of the restaurants with white clothes on the tables, serving the wine in the crystal glasses.

Or maybe not. He loved good food, and this pizza was just delicious. Perhaps he would risk his suit for it.

Chloe imagined Lucifer sitting here with them, eating the greasy pieces of pizza and suddenly she felt sad again. For the first time since leaving home, she admitted she missed him. She thought about the pictures in the medieval manuscripts and about what she saw in this fatal loft in Los Angeles, and about Marcus’ body on the marble floor… but somehow it all seemed so distant under this bright Italian sun.

Perhaps except Marcus. Here her anger was still fresh. Given the chance, she would kill the bastard herself.

“Mummy? You are getting sad again,” the anxious voice of her daughter interrupted her thoughts, her brown eyes already filling with disappointment as if she expected to be sent away again.

“Everything’s fine, Monkey,” whispered Chloe, kissing her forehead. “Let’s get some ice cream, ok?”

“Yes!...” shouted Trixie, jumping up.

They went to the gelateria with the selection of more than fifty tastes of ice cream. The etiquettes were written in Italian and they had a moment of fun guessing the tastes.

Certainly, Lucifer would know what they mean. All the sources were consistent, that he knew all the languages of the world. Chloe smiled, but then grew serious again. That all was too much for her to fathom, that’s why she… left. Run, would be a better word.

But now she missed him.

After the ice cream, they took a long walk down the streets of Rome – the display windows of the elegant shops reminding her about Lucifer again – and a few parks, full of bright flowering bushes. When they finally returned to the small hotel they were staying in Trixie, tired with unusual excitement, fell asleep.

Chloe sat on the small balcony, observing how the sun was setting down behind the buildings, sipping the wine – nothing special, the kind that was sold in the carton boxes in the supermarkets, but it tasted well enough – and decided to… reorganize the rest of her stay in Rome.

After all, what was the sense in reading all these books? She could ask Lucifer, he would tell her the truth. He said he never lied, right? And if it was a lie, if he was, indeed, the Prince of Lies, then the authors of manuscripts also knew nothing about him, because he lied to them all, didn’t he? In each case, there was no use to lose more time on reading.

Chloe was aware of the fact, that the glass of wine might have influenced her logic, but she welcomed any conclusion that would allow her to resign from sitting in the library, going through all these terrible manuscripts… just live a little?

And what’s a better place to leave a little than Italy?

She only lacked a suitable company.

The day of leisure entertainment weakened her defences and the longing, strengthened by the glass of wine, prevailed her reason. Apparently, it was the time for the drunken call to the… ex? Would be boyfriend? Would be ex?...

_Drunken call to the Devil._

When she took her phone, for a moment she sobered, and the familiar sting of fear returned.

“But he is in Los Angeles, half of the world away,” she consoled herself. “I do not have to tell him, where I am. He only knows I am in Europe. And it is not that we are not on speaking terms. I told him I need some space and he accepted it. One short call would be safe. Just to hear him.”

After a moment of inner struggle, she chose his number.

And, surprise, surprise – no one answered.

As hesitant she was a moment ago, now she felt determined to reach him, so she called the bar at the Lux instead.

“Patric?” she asked, recognizing the voice of the bartender. “It is Chloe Decker. Can I speak with Lucifer? I couldn’t reach him on his phone.”

“Ah, yes…. Ms Decker… The boss is playing.”

Chloe frowned and checked the time. “Did I miscalculated the time difference? I thought it is still middle of the day in the LA. Is it already his showtime?”

“Yes. I mean no, you didn’t. It is the middle of the day. But it is not that… we are going by showtimes now,” came the vague reply. “You know, he is playing,” stressed Patric in a way that apparently was supposed to tell her something.

“Okey…” replies slowly Chloe. “So, if he is not playing for an audience, can I perhaps speak to him?”

“Certainly.”

She heard Patric walking with the phone and indeed nearing to the sounds of the piano and then he must have covered the microphone because she didn’t hear his conversation with Lucifer. She waited a long, long while and only when she was finally ready to disconnect, she heard Lucifer’s voice in the phone.

“Detective?...”

She knew this tone. She heard it a few times before, in the voices of people who saw her at their threshold and realized she was going to break some very bad news to them… And she also understood that Lucifer could perhaps feign being kind… and gentle, shy or caring… even clumsy… but he would never manage to simulate being so scared.

He was absolutely afraid of what she was going to tell him.

“Hi,” she said, not being able to think about anything better. “How are you?”

“Fine… I think. How are you, Detective? It is you who is on holiday,” he stressed, in a rather pitiful attempt to speak with his usual verve.

“Fine. I mean, very well. Rome is beautiful.” So much for not telling him where she was.

“Indeed. You and the urchin are having fun?”

How lost he sounded. Lucifer Morningstar failing to lead a small talk.

“Yes. Well, no. Not so much,” she muttered. Great. It only lacked that she would tell him about spending the days in the Vatican library. Why exactly did she call him?

“No? Can I… help you somehow?...”

“Yes. Would you like to come here and spend a few days with us?” she blurted out.

Shit. What the hell had she done? She was supposed to avoid him, not invite him.

But it would be so nice… so right… to walk with him through this city… Drink coffee, and wine… and chose ice cream…

Lost in her phantasy she didn’t notice, that he remained silent for a very long time.

“You want me to join you at your vacation?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, yes. After all, it is only half of the world,” Chloe chuckled nervously. “Oh, that’s fine. I understand that…”

“I will gladly come.”

So. It was done. They would meet. Probably no later than in a day or two, because he sounded as if he was eager to see her. So much for keeping the distance.

“Great,” she tried to cover her uncertainty with fake enthusiasm. “Do you want me to fetch you from the airport, or something?”

“No, that’s not… necessary. I will find you at your hotel.”

“Fine,” nodded Chloe and then froze. “You know in which hotel we are staying?” she asked slowly.

Silence. Very long and very guilty silence. “Yes?...” came the shy reply.

Well then. It only confirmed there was no use in trying to avoid him. Better simply take the bull by the horns?... Devil by the horns?... No, no, just do not think about it, do not recall this dream… do not… Shit.

“Detective? I am sorry. Please, say something. Your invitation still stands? What are you thinking about?”

“Yes. I mean, yes, the invitation still stands,” replied Chloe, happy that he cannot see her blush. “Please come, when it would be convenient for you. I am staying in Rome for the next two weeks,” she finished a bit too formally and disconnected the conversation.

“It is all your fault,” she said accusingly to the carton box with the remains of wine and, to punish it, poured it all to her glass.

She finished the wine, checked on Trixie sleeping in their bedroom and then went to the bathroom. The shower sobered her enough to revive her doubts again.

 _What have I done?_ Everything in her suddenly whined in fear. Here she was, having fled to the second hemisphere, to get some… perspective… to think everything over… and after no more than two weeks of thinking it over, quite unproductively, she called him to join her.

But in the last few years, they never separated for more than two weeks.

 _Whatever he is, he is now a part of my life,_ she thought with resignation. _I cannot get rid of him, just like that…_ She exited to the small balcony again and admired the moon that appeared on the night sky. She recalled another balcony in Los Angeles and that short sweet moment they shared… _I do not want to get rid of him._

 _Let’s hope he would come sooner than later,_ she thought, heading for the bed.

And then her room phone called. When she raised the speaker, she heard the elderly owner of the hotel, who usually sat in the reception. She spoke mostly Italian, but slowly and adding a few English words, and Chloe managed to understand that she had a visitor. The lady asked whether he should be allowed to go to her room.

The only person the detective could think about that would possibly visit her here was this strange priest, as she left the address of her hotel in the library. She tensed immediately. She definitely wasn’t going to let him to the room, where her daughter was sleeping and replied she would meet him in the hotel lobby. Regretting, that she wasn’t able to take her gun on the vacation, she put the hotel night robe over her pajamas and went downstairs.

But in the small hotel lobby downstairs didn’t wait for her the baldish bearded priest, only Lucifer, in his usual, designer glory, perhaps only a bit… windswept.

“Detective,” he said, his voice breaking, looking at her as if she – in the oversized hotel robe – was the eighth wonder of the world.

Chloe only stared at him, her eyes round and mouth agape. Was he here, in Rome, all that time? Was he following her? But no, she was talking to him, she was calling to the Lux, speaking with Patric… “How is it possible?” she stuttered finally. “You have been in Los Angeles an hour ago! Just how?...”

Lucifer frowned and then suddenly bridled. “Bloody Hell, I didn’t think again! I am sorry, Detective, I… I didn’t want to scare you. I just… I was so happy that you called… and I forgot…”

“How did you get here so quickly?” asked Chloe, stressing each word. She remained standing on the last first step of the stairs.

Lucifer sighed and grimaced, looking quite guilty. “I flew...” he said with the same uncertainty as during their earlier conversation.

 _Plane? Helicopter. Not possible, too quickly. Wings,_ deciphered Chloe’s mind. _Wings,_ her mind repeated again and then performed an emergency shut down.

“I will come back in a few hours. Tomorrow. As if I would arrive by plane,” proposed Lucifer with resignation and turned back to leave.

“No, no,” Chloe called decisively, stepping down the stairs. “Stay.”

The elderly lady sitting behind the reception counter said something in Italian. She must have made an acquaintance with Lucifer because she was speaking very quickly, in a dialect and expected to be understood. Lucifer smiled to her a bit sadly and turned to Chloe.

“She says I should bring you flowers,” he explained. “She thinks we had a fight, and you ran away from me, and I came to apologize. And says that the flowers would help. Would the flowers help?” he asked with sudden interest.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” replied Chloe instinctively.

“Right, after all, I cannot help being myself,” he said with surprising bitterness.

“Please, don’t!” called Chloe, reaching for his hand. “Don’t speak… like this.” She was still… scared, but she couldn’t him fell into this destructive depression again. “Listen, Trixie is sleeping upstairs, so I cannot go anywhere, but… perhaps we could sit here for a moment and…” she pulled him towards a small table standing under the table of the lobby and stopped for a moment, seeing their reflection on the wall mirror. Despite the nervousness, she snorted with laughter. “We look funny together.”

He was wearing, as usual, the black three-piece suit and the dark shirt and even if his clothes were a bit crumpled and hair in slight disarray, he was still sleek and smooth as usual, whereas she was drowning in the white, much too big cotton nightgown.

“Well, you do lack only a halo and a cloud under your feet, to look like a little fluffy angel,” he agreed with a slight smile, for a moment marvelling their reflection.

There was no need to mention, whom he looked like. Himself.

They sat on the opposite sides of the little table and the elderly lady neared to them, bringing a small bottle of wine and two glasses. She stepped in front of Chloe and said something with a smile, patting her cheek.

The detective looked questioningly at Lucifer. “She told you, that you shouldn’t worry,” he replied. “That we learn to appreciate the good things only after we lose it. And since I learnt how it is to lose you, I would now appreciate you better…” he shook his head with a smirk. “What an old witch!...” he laughed and it sounded like a compliment. “First she didn’t want to simply let me into your room and now she is definitely on your side.”

Chloe questioningly raised her eyebrows.

“She desires to keep the most decent hotel in Rome,” explained Lucifer with a helpless shrug. “Not very useful.”

“Oh. And do you?” Chloe asked after a moment of consideration. “Do you appreciate me?...”

“Definitely,” Lucifer nodded with the helpless, absolutely disarming smile, that turned out a bit sad when he said: “If I could turn back time I would have made a few things differently… and that comes from someone who didn’t regret anything through millennia. Alas, I cannot, we are when and where we are… which makes me wonder why exactly are we here, Detective, in this lovely city, in the hotel led by the old Sardinian witch... Why did you call me?” he asked so suddenly, that Chloe, lulled by his rambling, had to mull over an answer for a moment.

“To spend some time together,” she replied finally. “It is a lovely place, you know. It seemed to be a waste… not enjoy it.”

“That’s it?” he straightened and looked at her suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. “Somehow it seems too simple. And what about your… space? Distance? Have you thought everything over?” he hesitated and asked, looking her straight in the eye: “Aren’t you scared anymore?”

“I am,” admitted Chloe. “Very much. And a lifetime would not be enough to think everything over. But… I missed your company.”

Suddenly she felt the tears trickling down her cheeks and quickly wiped them away.

“Detective? Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe wiped the tears again. They kept on flowing.

The elderly lady observing the scene from behind her courter shouted something to Lucifer, that sounded rather rudely. Lucifer snorted and shook his head, muttering something under his nose.

“Sometimes it is better not understand what they say,” he commented, but then focused on Chloe again.

“Please, don’t cry,” he sighed sadly. “What do you want me to do? I can leave.”

Chloe blew out her nose and tried to dry her eyes. “If I wanted you to leave, I wouldn’t have called you,” she muttered. “She is right, you know? The hotel owner.”

“Our witch? Why?”

“We should learn to appreciate the good things before we lose them.”

Lucifer looked at her for a long while and his expression brightened a little. “Somehow I have a good feeling about you saying it, Detective,” he said with a slight smile.

Chloe thought about all the questions he had. All her fears and doubts, that forced her to run away and make this futile raid through the libraries, these research that led her nowhere… All these question still stood. However, at the moment only one qestion really mattered.

“How would I know that this all is not a lie?” she asked, looking him in the eye. “That you are not lying to me? And do not say, that you do not lie, because if you did lie, you would say the same.”

To her surprise, Lucifer didn’t bridle. He considered her question seriously, searching for something that would give her sufficient assurance.

“You would know, Chloe,” he said finally. “You are a miracle, a real miracle. The Father directly influenced your creation.”

“I even do not know what it means,” she shook her head.

“Then trust your intuition. If I were lying, if I wanted to hurt or misled you would be able to recognize it.”

Chloe very much wanted to believe him… only that doubts, grounded in her past, flooded her again. “I didn’t know when Marcus was lying,” she said quietly.

To her surprise, instead of getting angry at mentioning Pierce, Lucifer beamed almost triumphally.

“You weren’t his miracle,” he said, all his smugness suddenly back.

Chloe rolled his eyes.

“I really, really missed you doing it,” stated Lucifer.

Their sight met for a moment.

“I need to go,” said suddenly Chloe. “I am tired. And I need to check on Trixie. Can we continue tomorrow?”

She was chickening out, right. However, at the moment she didn’t feel up to the task of dealing with smug, self-confident Lucifer. That, and her own… emotions… It would be too much for one day.

“But tomorrow we would return to the subject of appreciating of good things?...” that was more a statement than a question. Lucifer was openly grinning now as if he knew the reason of her sudden retreat. “Very well. I need to take care of a few things as well. Like accommodation. And some shopping. Most obviously, I have no luggage. Would it be… acceptable if I stayed in the same hotel? I fear that if I went now somewhere else, your witch could curse me. You had no idea how rancorous Sardinian witches can be,” he complained with shammed exaggeration.

“Of course,” Chloe shrugged her shoulders, pretending to be oblivious. “That’s very nice… place. The view is nice.”

“It certainly is,” he agreed, looking at her, and proceeded to a long and laud conversation with the elderly lady, that resulted in him receiving the key to the room and some advice, he didn’t translate.

Chloe lingered for a moment in the lobby, looking behind him, as he climbed the stairs. Somehow, she preferred to avoid walking him back to his room. At least tonight. The hotel owner said something to her, speaking slower, for her account, but Chloe was so tired, that she didn’t understand anything.

“Yes,” she replied only, still looking behind Lucifer. “He is the devil, you know? Il diavolo.”

The lady laughed and said something, laud. Chloe blushed again, having caught a few words. “No, not in the bed,” she replied. “Generally. The usual… devil. Well,” she added slowly, crooking her head, “in the bed too. At least that’s what I heard.”

At least now it looked that she had a chance for the real holiday ahead of her.


	2. The Southern Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story Italian Sun was meant as a one-shot. However, after finishing another, longer story, I felt like writing something simple and short. Besides, I still miss my freedom and the next summer does not look bright to us all.
> 
> So, there is another small and silly instalment.

“No, thank you. I am not interested,” replied Chloe as decisively as she could and concentrated on her coffee. Nothing in her body language could suggest the man – who was, otherwise, quite handsome, she had to admit it – that she would be interested in his proposition. However, he only smiled even wider and continued the long and heated speech. Chloe understood perhaps one word out of ten, but she could guess that it was a very romantic offer.

“No. I am busy,” she replied waving somewhere in the direction of the exit, where Lucifer and Trixie should have been eating their desserts. They chose some local speciality, bread roll filled with ice-cream. For Chloe, it seemed too odd. She decided on coffee and took her time deciding how she would like it. Now she could only regret her fastidiousness because as soon as she was left alone in the bar waiting for her order, some local Casanova started to shower her with propositions.

Apparently for him ‘no’ meant ‘speak to me more, handsome’, because with each refusal he smiled even wider and talked even faster.

Chloe grabbed her coffee and headed for the exit. She halted for a moment at the threshold, looking around to spot her companions, which only gave her new admirer occasion to catch up with her and grab her elbow, showing her a shiny motorbike, that probably would take them to the land of amorous elation.

“No! And get off!” yelled at him Chloe, barely refraining herself from knocking the man out of his feet and wiping the pavement with him.

The man, slightly shocked, crouched back, muttered something under his nose and finally left. 

Lucifer and Trixie were sitting on the small bench on the other side of the street, observing the scene with amused expressions. Chloe sighed, seeing how Trixie managed to get dirty with her ice-cream from head to toe. Lucifer, of course, manoeuvred with his roll carefully enough to avoid the smallest stain. He changed into more summer version of his suits, which meant more linen than cotton, but still, none piece of his garment looked easily washable.

“Another conquest, Detective?” he observed when Chloe joined them.

“I don’t understand,” the detective shook her head. “I mean – this guy must have noticed that I am with my daughter, did he think I would just leave her and drive off with him?”

“Actually,” Lucifer smirked, gently wrapping the paper tissue from his roll, “from what I overheard, people assume that Beatrice is my daughter and you are the American tourist I picked up during our vacation. Sorry, Detective, your offspring has distinctively better Italian accent than you.”

“Children learn languages much easier,” huffed Chloe, slightly annoyed by her lack of linguistic talents, but simultaneously proud of Trixie, who was indeed catching Italian words incredible quickly. As a result, Lucifer and Trixie could be easily taken for residents, whereas Chloe always looked like the tourist she was.

“Since you have taken over my daughter, you could have to help me with that Romeo,” she observed jokingly, but not without slight resentment, because, let’s be honest, she wouldn’t mind him expressing just a bit of jealousy.

Just to spice up this perfect vacation a little. 

“If you kicked his ass and got arrested for it, I would vouch for you to get you out,” promised Lucifer carelessly.

After Lucifer’s arrival to Rome, Chloe’s holiday, from gloomy, nervous and full of distress, abruptly turned into the purely recreational ones. The old manuscripts were forgotten and the detective’s desk in the library stood empty. Instead, there was the sun, wine, coffee, pizza and sightseeing. And, of course, ice-cream. A really, really lot of ice-cream.

What they lacked, perhaps, was an honest conversation, but Chloe wasn’t ready for it and Lucifer apparently didn’t dare to touch the subject. As a result, certain awkwardness didn’t disappear from their relations. They were both very determined not to address the elephant – or perhaps rather the devil – in the room, which made their conversations sometimes overly polite and a bit too formal. And, to Chloe’s certain disappointment, mostly devoiced of any romantic connotations. 

She consoled herself, that she wasn’t ready for it anyway.

The only safe and comfortable subject for both of them was Trixie, or more precisely, providing Trixie with entertainment and making her happy. The child, on her side, ecstatic for being let out of boring playrooms, shamelessly used the situation. No amount of spoiling was too much for her and she instantly came out with new ideas. She was also very interested in sightseeing, reading guidebooks and websites for tourists, and demanded to visit places she got interested in. It was mostly because of her, why they suddenly decided to visit Southern Italy and were now making the route through the small Calabrian cities and villages. 

Today Trixie wanted to visit the ruins of some Roman city. From what Chloe read in the guidebook, the remains weren’t too impressive and the place generally was forgotten, but Trixie had already built her expectations and demanded to see it anyway. Lucifer began to explain, that even in the times of the best prosperity the only place worth visiting in this town was the brothel led by certain Greek hag until he came around and silenced – which didn’t save him from Trixie asking what brothel was and whether they are going to see it. 

That’s how they found themselves standing in front of the very closed gate of the fence surrounding the historical area of the ruins that left of the said city.

“I am sorry, Monkey. It is closed,” said Chloe with no regret in her voice. “Perhaps they have a summer break or something. Why don’t we go to the beach instead?”

“We have beaches at home,” replied Trixie, very disappointed. “I wanted to see the Roman town.”

“Look, Child, there is no more left, than a few stones, that even do not resemble the town,” observed Lucifer with certain nostalgia in his voice. “You can see it from here.” He grabbed Trixie and lift her for a while so that she would see better over the fence. “Nothing but a few stones in grass.”

“But it is only the first part! There are also ruins of amphitheatre, and the street, the temple and the merchant stalls…” Trixie’s voice shook with gathering tears when she suddenly beamed: “But we can see it! It is only the museum that is closed!”

“No, the whole place is closed, there is a fence, and… Trixie, it can be electrified!” Chloe called, frightened, seeing how her monkey deftly climbed up the fence and jumped at the other side. 

“No it is not!” the girl called merrily and run down the path. “Come on, follow me!”

“Great,” muttered Chloe, her righteous nature disturbed by her daughter’s transgression. She looked at Lucifer, who was standing idly with a slight smile.

“Shell I get her back?” he asked.

“No,” sighed Chloe. “I think it won’t make too much harm if we make a quick walk through this place. She should get bored quickly. So, would you help with this gate or do I have to climb the fence?”

“I can boost you up,” he offered, but, at her glare reached to the gate, which, of course, magically opened.

Lucifer was now very careful not to use his… special talents. Chloe, who in the last years got somehow used to both the locks and the people being opened for her, now sometimes felt a bit irritated by his restraint.

They followed quickly Trixie, finding her in a place where, according to the information boards, the market of the ancient city was. All that remained were the stones marking the contours of the merchant stalls and smooth surface of the old road. Chloe for a moment marvelled at the traces that wheels of carts and chariots left in the paving, wondering, how such small, insignificant detail withstood all the people and vehicles that carved him in the stone. Then, she looked around. Instead of reading Trixie’s guidebook, she preferred to feel the ambience of the place as it was now. 

They were alone here, the only other sound were loud cricketing of the cicadas and, from time to time, distant noises of cars passing on the nearby road. Sun was bright, the air warm and filled with the smell of herbs. She touched the remains of the ancient column, enjoying its warmth, and closed her eyes feeling lazy and happy.

“That was a Jupiter’s temple,” announced Trixie, reading her book. “The priests who lived here were guarding the holy statue and performing auguries and rituals for other citizens.”

“And traded opium with datura for the triple price,” muttered Lucifer under his nose. 

“The walls were built from the marble and painted in colourful patterns,” Trixie read further. Chloe smiled at her enthusiasm, but at the moment she would rather prefer to listen to the cicadas. “The place was an important point in the trading routes. The streets were crowded and teeming with life…”

“And stinking,” Lucifer cut in again. 

“No,” Trixie glared at him. “The level of hygiene in ancient Rome was very high. I read about it.”

“Comparatively to the rest of the neighbourhood at these times, perhaps,” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. “But believe me, it was still far from what you would call hygienic,” he ran his foot along the shallow indentation running on the side of the road. Chloe guessed it must have been a gutter. She moved further back, inhaling deeply the smell of the herbs warmed up by the sun.

“It wasn’t,” insisted Trixie, determined to defend the glory of the Roman Empire. “I told you I read about it. There were aqueducts, and fountains, and public bathhouses…”

“Child,” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed with irritation, “have you read about garum? Let me tell you precisely, what it was and how it was produced,” he said ominously.

Amused, but also slightly bored, Chloe waved to him, signing that she was going to look around, and walked down the path. She passed by the ruins of the temple and the amphitheatre, not paying too much attention to the information boards, but enjoying the sun and peaceful mood of this deserted place. Trixie’s and Lucifer’s voices faded behind her and Chloe found herself on the path leading to the building of the museum. Knowing that it would be closed, the detective veered off the route and walked into the small olive tree grove.

The sky was blue, the air was warm and the cicadas were cricketing… For a moment, Chloe felt relaxed and happy.

And then her foot slipped. Whether it was a root of the olive tree or the remains of some forgotten ruin buried in the grass, she stepped on it at the wrong angle and felt a sudden sting of pain in her leg. Cursing, she limped back to the path and examined the damage. 

Nothing more serious but a strained tendon. Still, it hurt, and for a short moment, Chloe dreamily considered the idea of calling Lucifer and asking him to help her… well, to carry her to the car. However, her self-reliant part won and instead she limped toward the museum. There was a small fountain In front of the building, in which Chloe wetted her scarf, wrapping it around the aching ankle. The pain immediately diminished, soothed by the cool, wet material. The detective sighed with relief and decided to walk slowly back. 

And then, turning back, just in the corner of her eyes, she noticed some movement in the museum. 

If the detective considered it for a moment, she would certainly realize, that there was something suspicious with people being in the museum, if the whole area was closed. She would also probably noticed, that the movement was not in the exhibition rooms, but in the backside of the building. However, she was so deep in the holiday mood, that it only passed through her mind, that perhaps the museum was yet open and Trixie could visit it, extending her already vast, even if a bit biased knowledge.

That’s why she limped to the door and opened it.

Three men with rather unfriendly expressions stared at her and the detective immediately realized that the museum was not open. What’s more, these men certainly weren’t the custodians of the exhibition. And there was something were wrong in all this.

If she had any doubts, a few passports and a pile of cash lying on the floor would disperse it.

She must have accidentally discovered the hiding of the criminals. Thieves, perhaps.

For a moment, Chloe thought about calling Lucifer. She suspected he would hear her, even considering the distance. However, he would have to either come here with Trixie or leave the girl alone in the ruins… and in the given circumstances neither option appeared safe. 

So, instead, she flashed her best ‘tourist smile’ and asked innocently: “Excuse me, is the museum open?”

One of the men, still staring at her gloomily, shook his head.

“No? Then I am sorry,” she smiled even wider, this time apologizingly. “I will be going.” She stepped back, trying to transmit the message: _I am just a stupid tourist. I have no idea what is going on around me. You can let me go. I will walk my way and cause no trouble._ Of course, she would do her best to investigate that apparent safe house of the criminals, but first, she needed to get out of here. She put the best tourist act she could and it seemed to be working because neither of the men moved to stop her.

And then, when she was almost behind the threshold, she noticed it. 

An AK-47 rifle and two guns, lying on the floor, just near the exit. For a second, she froze staring at it, and there was no use in pretending, that she didn’t see it.

“Fuck,” she said in a very non-tourist way and the men said something similar in Italian.

And then there was a movement, a rustle behind her, and her world went black.

* * *

The detective woke up in the unknown room. When she moved, she felt a wave of headache and after touching the back of her head, she found a sizeable lump on the back of her head. For a moment, she just laid quietly looking around.

She was neither in the museum anymore, nor at the hospital.

_ I found the safe house of the criminals in the locked museum,  _ she recalled. _They must have knocked me down… and took somewhere…_

The room she woke up in looked shabby and smelled musty, with old furniture and stale wood. It must have been an old house. Her captors seemed to leave her alone. No one checked on her, she heard no one walking or taking in the adjacent rooms. Very slowly, Chloe stood up and carefully neared to the window. 

Outside she saw nothing but a garden and behind that – a high wall. It was even hard to tell, whether she was in the city or at the village property.

She tried to open the window, but it was closed. And it was barred. 

With impatience prevailing caution she neared to the door and pulled the knob. The door was closed too. 

Her handbag, with her phone, was, of course, nowhere in view.

If she had any doubts whether the people who brought her here had evil intentions, they would have been dispersed by now. Besides, well, she remembered this AK-47 on the floor. These were not some simple thieves she came across. She must have accidentally discovered the place of the mob’s dirty business. 

Chloe grimaced, unhappily. The common thieves would, most probably, knock her down and escape with the spoils. The mob was more… cautious and unforgiving. And they wouldn’t shy away from silencing a nosey tourist, who saw too much.

Her thoughts run to Trixie. Damn, how close to the danger she was! And what a lucky coincidence, that Chloe went to the museum alone! They could have neared to the building together, and Trixie would be the one to open the door and surprise the criminals… Chloe silently thanked the providence for that happy coincidence and the Lucifer’s presence. Had it not been for him, Trixie would probably get kidnapped together with her.

She recalled suddenly that a few weeks ago she escaped to Europe to protect Trixie… from Lucifer. And now she trusted that he would take care of her daughter’s safety. 

Sometimes, life could be… malicious.

Having acknowledged the fact, that life may be giving her a lesson of humility, Chloe started to think about getting out of her predicament. The more she thoughts about her kidnappers’ possible intentions, the worse it looked like. 

Even if her kidnappers saw Lucifer and Trixie in the ruins – and Chloe sincerely hoped, that they didn’t – they would ask about them in the village and probably hear the same what Lucifer overheard: that there was an American tourist who joined father and daughter on vacation. They would expect that no one would search for her too soon.

Of course, Lucifer would certainly search for her – he was, most certainly, searching for her already – but it wouldn’t help much if these goons had killed her before.

Chloe decided she needed to keep stalling as long as possible. If she told them, that she worked with American police, would it help? Rather not, it could have an opposite effect. And if she pretended to be wealthy, would they be tempted with the prospect of the ransom? Chloe with a sigh looked at her clothes from the cheap chain store. No one would believe her to be rich enough to be worth ransoming. And Lucifer, still in Rome, wanted to take her shopping when he was completing his own wardrobe… What a pity that she refused. _Apparently, no one knows when designer clothes might come in handy,_ she thought, with regret.

Until some opportunity of escape would arise, her only hope was waiting for the rescue. If she only could contact Lucifer somehow… How stupid, that she needed the phone to contact him, taking into account his… nature. Was there no special, extra way to contact the devil? But through the years of their cooperation, Chloe never noticed anything that could suggest telepathy belonged to his supernatural talents.

Oh, wait. Ella told her, that he did mention something about praying to his brother. Perhaps Amenadiel had some telepathic skills? Could he hear prayers?... To be more precise, Ella said that Lucifer was irritated because he couldn’t reach his brother, so the chances were rather meagre… but it cost nothing to try.

“Hi, Amenadiel…” she whispered, looking at the ceiling, “if you could hear me, I would need some help…” She hesitated, feeling very stupid. It didn’t felt like communication at all. “I am not doing it right, am I? Should I speak louder? Or fold my hands, or?… No, sorry, I cannot. I guess I know you too well. All I can think right now is how Maze during the tribe night was mimicking your face when you both were doing… this... well, you know what. Oh, that was… well, that was after a few drinks. Sorry. So sorry,” Chloe sighed, resigned, trying to move aside that particular memory and concentrate on the task. “Okay, but anyway, I am in a sort of troubles. I was kidnapped and I… actually, I have no idea where I am, so even if you could hear me, it wouldn’t help much,” she finished with a shrug. 

That was… beyond stupid.

She looked around, searching for something more constructive she could do. 

The next half on an hour she spent at preparing a makeshift lock pick from the pen she found in one of the drawers and then trying to pry open the lock in the doors. Unfortunately, it was as unsuccessful as her attempt at communication with Amenadiel, but at least it kept her occupied.

And then she heard steps, nearing to the door.

She quickly stepped back, hiding her lock pick in the sleeve. If necessary, she could use it as a weapon. Prepared to fight, she waited till the door opened and an elderly man entered the room. He was sleek and elegant, his spotless suit standing out in the shabby room. The detective immediately noticed the slight bulge under his jacket – unmistakable sigh of the hidden gun. She wouldn’t do much against it with her pen.

“Ms Decker,” said the man in perfect English. To her surprise he sounded polite and nervous, “I am sorry for the inconvenience. It was an awful mistake. I will drive you back to your hotel.”

“How do you know my name and where I am staying?” snarled Chloe, because, polite or not, that man was smelling with the mob and she knew better than to trust him.

“That was a misunderstanding,” replied the man only, but handed her a piece of paper with hastily noted the name of the town they were staying for a few days. “I will drive you there. It is not far, you will be in your hotel in the blink of an eye. And once again, I am sorry… about this,” with a painful grimace he made an undefined gesture pointing at the direction of her head. “I hope you are feeling well. Shell we go?”

Chloe narrowed her eyes and observed him for a while. It didn’t seem that this man was going to take her somewhere to be shot down. He wouldn’t bother to be so polite. Perhaps he and his men thought her to be some stupid tourist, who didn’t realize what she saw… and decided that there would be less trouble with letting her out than with… disposing of her?

In such case, she definitely should use the opportunity. Of course, she would notify the authorities as soon as she would be able to, but the first thing would be to get out of here.

“Ms Decker?” the man looked at her impatiently, stepping from one foot to another. “Let’s go.”

“My bag,” reminded Chloe.

The man, with a huff, turned back and reached to the small table standing on the corridor, handing her the small handbag. The detective opened it and checked, whether her phone was inside. 

“Ms Decker?” the man looked at her almost pleadingly. “I am in a bit of a hurry.”

The detective nodded and followed him through the dusty corridor, as stale and shabby looking like the room she was kept in. They made perhaps half the way when the door suddenly burst open – and they did burst very spectacularly, with the splitters flying through the air. 

The elderly man gasped and stumbled, and Chloe smiled, because, as she expected, Lucifer appeared in the threshold.  He spotted her immediately. “Detective, are you all right?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” she replied and came to him. The man escorting her did nothing to stop her and when she was passing by him, she noticed the sweat gathering on his face. 

“I was just going to drive her back,” he said. 

Lucifer ignored him and for a moment pulled Chloe closer, looking at her cautiously. 

“I am fine,” she repeated. 

“Yes, she is fine and healthy,” echoed the man. “Can we put this incident into oblivion and go our ways?”

Chloe, remembering about the gun hidden under this man’s jacket, pulled Lucifer toward the exit, but he didn’t move, only looked at the elderly man.

“You are bloody late,” he snorted. “The deal was that we go our ways if you bring her back,” Lucifer hung his voice for a moment, for a better impression, “before I find you. And you didn’t make it,” he concluded with a smile that made the man step back a little. 

“Lucifer,” started warningly Chloe, but he moved her behind him, toward the crashed door. Only now did she notice, that there was someone else waiting on the threshold. A big, strangely clothed, but familiar silhouette. “Amenadiel?”

“Yes, Detective, look who paid as a visit,” Lucifer pushed her outside, basically handing her to his brother. “Would you two please wait outside? My Italian friend and I have a new deal to make. You see, he failed to keep the first one.”

“That’s not my fault. I couldn’t have gotten here faster,” replied the man. Now he sounded fully panicked. 

“I so much do not care about it…” sighed Lucifer, lazily stretching his shoulders. 

Chloe wanted to intervene, but Amenadiel already led her outside, at the small patio littered with debris. She could see two cars parked in a small distance, the one she and Lucifer lent in Italy among them.

“Amenadiel,” she started with anxiety.

“It is a robe,” he replied almost immediately. 

Confused, Chloe looked at his clothes. He was indeed wearing something strange, long and flowing. “Your dress?” she said. “No, that’s not… Look, that man had a gun. And I am certain he is with the mob.”

Amenadiel smiled serenely. 

The detective frowned. “Please, tell me, that Lucifer has nothing to do with the Italian mob. Please.”

“Of course. Nothing” replied Amenadiel calmingly. “And they would very much like to keep it that way. That’s why when he learnt who took, they wanted to bring you back, just not to… start an issue with him. But, in the meantime, I informed him about your precise location… and I guess that he is now going to force on them some small retaliation. But it won’t be anything excessive, I assure you. Just to… vent a little. You know, Lucy has been very worried about you.”

Chloe considered his words for a moment. If Amenadiel wasn’t worried, probably Lucifer was indeed safe. And this other man… Well, she heard no screams, so probably the new deal indeed wasn’t... excessive. She nodded and focused on another issue.

“But how did you know my… precise location?...” she asked. 

“Why, you… appealed to me,” said Amenadiel, with slight reproach in his voice. “Because this what you did, even in the most indulgent assessment, couldn’t have been called prayer.”

“And you heard me?” gasped Chloe. “Really? It worked? And you knew where I was? Even if I didn’t know it myself?” The possibilities of using it during her detective assignments started to roll in her head. “Like… GPS?” 

“Like Grace, Detective Decker,” retorted Amenadiel, slightly offended. “Heavenly Grace.”

After a while, he added stiffly, avoiding her sight: “And please be informed, that the prayers are not privy to the ears of the receiver. All the Angels could hear them. As well as see the pictures, you imagine. Therefore, I would appreciate if you would refrain yourself from getting into unnecessary, personal details.”

“Oh. Yes,” muttered Chloe, reddening. “I am sorry.”

For a moment they stood in silence. 

“Did Maze really?...” asked finally Amenadiel.

“Yes,” mumbled the detective, looking at her feet. “Sorry again.” The silence was getting more and more awkward, so she cleared her throat and attempted at the small talk: “So… have you been in the L.A. recently?” she asked remembering that Amenadiel disappeared shortly before the whole… catastrophe with Pierce broke out. 

“No,” replied Amenadiel only, closing the subject. Luckily, at this moment, very satisfied Lucifer exited the house, sweeping them into the whirlwind of his usual energy.

“No, Detective, my brother has been enjoying his newly reclaimed and long-missed glory, hopefully bathing in all the splendour and boredom he deserves,” he stated, leading them toward the car. “Backseat,” he snarled at Amenadiel, when his brother touched the handle of the front door. The big man sighed and scrambled on the backseat, between Trixie’s discarded guidebooks and clothes. In the meantime, Lucifer opened the front door for Chloe and asked with concern: “Detective, are you really fine? These goons must have knocked you out, don’t we need you to take you to the hospital?”

“No. Lucifer, where is Trixie?” 

“Ah, the little know-it-all is at the hotel. Detective, you should appreciate my consideration, because when we couldn’t find you in these ruins and I realized that something must have happened to you, I first took your spawn to the hotel and arranged a proper… babysitter for her… and only then started to search for you. And it wasn’t easy. I was worried, Detective,” he observed, starting the engine.

Chloe leant toward him and quickly pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you. I hoped that you would take care of her. But how did you found a babysitter here?”

“Someone I know. A very trusted and suitable person,” replied Lucifer evasively, starting the engine.

Chloe only sighed, imagining some Italian sex bomb. “And these men at the museum…”

“Robbers, who made a safe house there, using the occasion, that the place was closed for the summer break. They would go to jail,” replied Lucifer. “They won’t be… welcome here any longer.”

The detective assumed, that this was a part of the new deal, but didn’t inquire further. After all, she was still on vacation. 

“Lucifer, let me out here,” said suddenly Amenadiel. “I will go home.”

Chloe, blinked, seeing that they were in an entirely remote area. How would Ameadiel... ah, righ. Wings. 

Lucifer pulled over at the side of the street. “Very well. Don’t salute anyone from me. You may say I do not miss them. However," he added a bit warmer, “It was nice of you to intervene.” Then he hesitated, grimaced and amended the last sentence: “Thank you for your help. I assume we won’t be seeing each other for a long time?”

Amenadiel looked at him with a smile, shaking his head. “That depends on when you end your vacation. I am going to Los Angeles.”

“Ah. Who would guess,” observed Lucifer. “That boring up there, huh?” And after starting the engine and Amenadiel couldn’t hear him, he leant toward Chloe and added with a wink: “Home, he said.”

* * *

“Mummy!” yelled Trixie, jumping at her and wrapping her arms around her neck. 

Chloe felt the remains of tension leaving her. Trixie was anxious, but safe, playing some board game with the babysitter. Surprisingly, it was not a local hot beauty; as the matter of fact, she looked very much like the students that used to babysit Trixie in L.A.: a chubby teenager in glasses and pageboy haircut. She appeared harmless, but very amiable.

And she must have been Lucifer’s acquaintance, because they exchanged a few hasty, whispered sentences. The babysitter said to him something about wanting to ‘finally meet that girl of yours,’ which probably referred to Chloe because she peeked at her curiously. However, Lucifer quite unceremoniously ushered her out of the room, muttering: ‘later, not everything at once’.

The detective barely listened to this exchange, because Trixie started to sob.

“I am so sorry, Mum. That’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have jumped over this fence. You could have died because of me. 

“Shh, Trixie,” replied Chloe, kissing her. “We all make mistakes. What matters, is that nothing bad happened."


End file.
